Pleasure Seeking
by Margo'sShed
Summary: A shamelessly indulgent story, telling the tale of what could have been between Dr. Michaela Quinn and Hank Lawson, if Dr Quinn had taken a different turn... Just one scene long, with the possibility of more.


**Pleasure Seeking**

**A Hank Lawson and Dr. Michaela Quinn short story.**

"Dr Mike!"

Someone shouted her name. Michaela looked up from the medical journal she was reading.

"Dr Mike?"

She heard the dull thud of boots outside the door to the clinic and as she stood she saw the door handle turn and the door swing open.

Jake stood in the doorway. His face was flushed, though she suspected this may be less to do with the cold of winter, and more to do with how much he had been drinking.

"What is it?"

She asked, he seemed vague with drink and his whole body listed slightly to the left as he stood in the doorway, one hand on his hip, the other reaching up to push his fingers through his hair.

He made a noise in the back of his throat, a half groan, a half sigh.

"Trouble over at the saloon. Someone refused to pay for..."

He paused and gestured limply with a hand.

"...the services provided there."

Michaela reached for her medical bag with one hand and flipped the book she was reading closed with the other. She skirted around the corner of the desk and Jake swayed slightly as he made room for her to pass through the door and out of the clinic into the street.

"Who's injured?"

She asked as she made her way as quickly as she could towards the saloon. Jake followed her with the stilted long-legged gait of the inebriated and again he made some sort of incoherent noise from the back of his throat as though he couldn't quite remember what she was talking about.

She drew up her skirts as she climbed the steps to the saloon doors. She pushed them open, the thick sour smell of cigar smoke and the bitter sweet smell of sweat and alcohol greeted her.

Someone bumped up against her, she heard the drunken jeers and nudged away the hands that reached to slip about her waist and brush against her hips. Someone exhaled a thin stream of blue smoke into her face and she winced from it, it stung her eyes and made her cough.

She glanced about the room, in the far corner just next to the bar Loren held up a hand and hailed her over. She pushed her way through the unmoving bodies to the darkened corner.

Hank was propped up in a chair, his face was pale and twisted with pain, his eyes were closed and his head lolled back against the wall. His lip was bleeding, a winding dribble of blood ran the curve of his bottom lip, pooled in the crease of his chin and made it's way through the sharp blonde stubble where it slithered down his neck.

"Hank?"

She knelt before him and set her medical bag on the floor. She could feel the pull and tug of something sticky against the fabric of her skirt.

She looked up at Loren.

"What happened?"

She spoke quietly and Loren drew up his shoulders, frowning as he expelled a breath.

"Some out of town money man didn't pay up. Hank tried to stop him..."

He paused and shrugged again and Michaela reached out to touch Hank's jaw.

As her fingers brushed his skin he jerked his head away and opened his eyes, his breath came in short sharp pants and he gritted his teeth.

"It's my arm that hurts."

His voice was a growl through straight white teeth and his bloodshot eyes gleamed a brighter blue than she remembered.

"Loren, could you help me manoeuvre him into the back room, please?"

She asked, and Loren nodded, casting a quick eye about the bar. Michaela followed his gaze, the men gathered about the bar were helping themselves, pouring glasses full of whisky and drinking quickly so that they could move onto the next free drink...

"Help me get him into the back and then perhaps you could take over for him?"

Michaela stood as she spoke and Loren widened his eyes.

"Oh, I don't know..."

But the look in her eye made him falter and he shuffled himself around so that he could reach down to haul Hank up from the chair.

"I'll see what I can do."

He mumbled, his voice strained as he pulled Hank up onto his feet. Michaela steadied Hank as he swayed, raising his good arm and placing it over her shoulders and slipping her arm about his waist so that she could help him up the step through into the back room.

He let his head fall forward as he moved, his hair hung limp, the curl of it tickling against her cheek as he moved and he hissed a pained breath with each uneasy step. His body ached and his head throbbed behind his eyes so much that he barely noticed when they passed through into his bedroom, and both Michaela and Loren lowered him gently onto the bed.

He sat on the edge of the mattress and let his head fall forward into his hands, waiting for it to stop throbbing. He could hear the blood in his ears, the rushing pulsing of it that made him close his eyes.

"Loren?"

Michaela placed a hand on the older man's arm, pushing him gently from the room, looking up as they reached the door, the sound of glass smashing and raucous laughter coming from the bar.

He looked dubiously to the smoke filled room across the hall and drew in a breath.

"I'll see what I can do."

He said again, and with faltering steps he made his way from the room. She closed the door behind him and twisted the key in the lock. It was stiff and she suspected that he may not usually have much regard for safety.

She turned to look at him. His breathing had slowed though he still slumped forwards, his hair shielding his face.

She drew in a breath, somehow his very existence had always made her nervous, even more so when she found herself alone with him.

She made her way back over to the bed and set her medical bag down next to him.

"You don't gotta do this y'know. I just need to sleep."

He coughed as he spoke and the split on his lip began bleeding once more, glittering red in the dim lamp light and slowly he sat up straighter and drew his good arm across his mouth, wiping away the blood with the cuff of his sleeve.

"Where does it hurt?"

She asked, ignoring his words and pushing up her sleeves. He raised his head ever so slowly to look at her, pausing before he answered, irritated at himself for allowing himself to be beaten.

"My shoulder...my head..."

He said eventually, and without a word she reached out to him, she pushed the loose white fabric of his shirt from his shoulder and pushed at the firm skin beneath, frowning as she felt the muscle, digging the tips of her fingers against his flesh, making him wince and glare.

"You doin' that on purpose?"

He wheezed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his other hand, breathing against the sudden light headed feeling.

"I think it's just badly bruised..."

"That ain't just a bruise."

He cut her off and she drew in a breath. He looked up at her again and she glanced to his mouth.

"Did you hit your head?"

She asked, and he hissed out a laugh.

"No, someone else hit my head."

He murmured, and he ran his fingers through his hair.

"I can give you something for the pain. Then I'll see to your lip."

She said, and she reached for the buttons of his shirt. He raised an eyebrow and leant back slightly as she methodically undid each one.

She could feel his eyes on her, she could see the amusement that twitched at the corners of his mouth and when she reached the last button he leant back even further on his one good arm, allowing her to gently ease the shirt from his body. She gathered it up into her arms and found herself folding it slowly...neatly...placing it down on the bed next to him before she dared look at him again.

"You enjoyin' this?"

He asked, and even as he spoke she could hear the laughter behind his words and his eyes glittered, watching her intently as her cheeks flushed.

"I'm just doing what's necessary."

She said carefully, and averting her eyes again she ran a hand down from his shoulder, feeling for possible breaks or fractures, and when she felt none she retraced the trail she'd taken back up to his shoulder. She felt the muscle that lead up to his neck spasm beneath her fingertips, it was firm and knotted and as she touched it she felt him wince and he inhaled sharply.

She reached over to her bag and drew out a small vial of liquid into which she pushed the thin end of a needle. She drew out the clear liquid into the syringe and moved back over to him.

"What you doin' with that?"

He asked quickly, leaning away from her, eyeing the pointed end with a raised eyebrow.

"It'll ease the pain in your shoulder and head."

She said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"It'll relax you."

She added when he remained stiff with uncertainty.

He looked from the needle back to her, and clenched his jaw, watching her as she pushed the needle into his arm. He could feel the cool liquid seeping into his veins and he found he was holding his breath.

She withdrew the needle carefully and felt him exhale, his breath catching the whispers of hair at her cheek.

"All done."

She murmured, and she placed the needle and empty vial into a small piece of fabric and placed it back into her bag, reaching now for a small cloth and saline solution.

"What's that for?"

He asked as she unscrewed the cap of the bottle and doused the fabric with the liquid.

"For your lip."

She said simply, and she set the bottle back into the bag and sat down next to him on the bed. The mattress dipped slightly and he turned himself to face her, his upper body twisting so that she could lean toward him.

He watched how deliberately she avoided his gaze, and with a breath she reached out to steady his jaw with one hand, and with the other she dabbed the fabric against the blood on his neck. She could feel his stubble against the palm of her hand, it was rough and prickly. She moved upwards, cleaning the skin of his throat, the rise of his chin, and finally his mouth.

She felt her cheeks flush again, she could feel the burn of them as she dabbed at the blood, cleaning the split at the centre of his bottom lip. She'd never noticed before how full they were, how perfect the cupids bow of his top lip was...

"You sure are thorough."

He said quietly, his words muffled as he tried to keep his mouth still.

She withdrew her hand quicker than she had meant to and balled up the bloodied fabric into the palm of her hand.

"You don't gotta be so nervous...I ain't gonna bite you."

He drawled, and he raised his injured arm, the pain had lessened already and he felt a faint warm feeling of euphoria begin to bloom within his head.

"Unless you want me to."

He added, and he grinned, that quick grin that always seemed to be silently laughing. He felt blood on his lip again, only a little this time, and he licked at it, tasting the metallic taste of his own blood.

"Hank..."

She exhaled though she seemed unable to look away.

As though testing the movement of his injured arm all the more, he raised his hand to the side of her face and leant toward her.

With one quirk movement she leant backwards, away from him, her eyes widening as he paused, still grinning, still his eyes sparkled...

"I'm just showin' you how grateful I am for you fixin' me up."

He murmured, cocking his head to one side, watching her, waiting for her response. Instead she frowned, unsure as to what he meant. His hand still lingered against her cheek, his fingers were long and rough and she found herself holding her breath as he leant forwards again, and the stubble of his cheek brushed against her jaw where he placed a surprisingly soft kiss.

He felt her swallow hard and clear her throat. He hesitated there, he could smell her, the soap in her hair, the perfume dabbed behind her ear.

He began to draw away from her, but as he did she exhaled a breath of relief and he stopped, still only inches from her face. He let his hand fall from her jaw to her knee where his fingertips just touched her.

She stiffened again.

He smiled a long slow smile, tilting his head again, amused at how even the slightest of touches worried her...

"What did you think I was gonna do?"

He whispered. She could smell his breath, whisky and cigars...she'd never seen him so close up before. Every pore of his skin, the scattering of stubble, the bright blue eyes with a faint star of hazel about the pupil.

She couldn't speak. She couldn't seem to find the words so she gave a quick shake of her head.

"I thought..."

She swallowed again, and when she met his eyes she knew he would have to be the one to look away.

"You thought?"

He coaxed and her cheeks reddened even more. She drew in a breath and without meaning to she glanced to his mouth, she could see the smooth cut in the soft pink flesh of his lip.

"I thought you were going to kiss me."

She found herself speaking without meaning to.

His grin widened again and with one finger he drew tiny slow circles against the fabric of her skirt.

"I did kiss you."

He said with a shrug, and he pulled away from her without warning and stood up.

It took her a moment to realise that he wasn't before her any more. She exhaled slowly, trying to regain some sort of composure. She could feel her pulse at her throat and within her wrists. She drew in a breath through her nose.

"You plannin' on stayin' here?"

He asked, his voice was quieter than it usually was, it had lost it's harshness and he stood by the door, his hand resting on the keys, his fingertip rubbing the metal.

In one long awkward movement she gathered herself, moving as though she'd been broken free from a spell. She stood, still slightly dazed, her cheeks hot and with clumsy laboured movements she gathered her things and closed her bag before smoothing down her skirt.

She turned to face him, he was still smiling, watching her with unabashed amusement.

"I don't know what you find so funny."

She snapped breathlessly, tightening her grip on the handle of her bag and she took the few steps needed so that she stood before him, waiting for him to open the door for her.

He grinned again and she pursed her lips.

"You! You're fine when I got my clothes on. As soon as you took my shirt off you came over all unnecessary..."

He laughed, leaning back slightly, his eyes glittered in the half-light and his teeth showed beneath a lazy smile.

"I did not!"

She hissed, she felt hot, she could feel her irritation just beneath her skin, her pulse throbbed in her neck and she tried her best to meet his gaze.

"Then why you blushin'?"

He asked, his voice barely a whisper, and he shrugged, feeling a dull ache in his shoulder.

"I am not...blushing..."

She contradicted and she folded her arms tightly across her chest, her bag bumping against her hip.

He nodded slowly and narrowed his eyes as if he were contemplating something.

"Well it ain't that hot in here, you're awful pink and you can't look me in the eye..."

She knew he was laughing at her, making fun of her...and what's more she knew that he was enjoying it.

"You can put your shirt back on now."

She said firmly, curling her fingers, balling her fists and tightening her arms about herself. She heard him take in a long slow breath, out of the corner of her eye she could see the rise of his chest. His skin was taught and tanned, ruddy from the sun and lightly freckled.

"You want me to?"

He asked eventually, and she expelled an exasperated breath, appalled by his boldness.

"Michaela?"

She flinched as he touched her, just the smallest of touches, a fingertip or two against her arm where it grazed the material of her sleeve and traced a fleeting glance up to her jaw where he applied a surprisingly gentle pressure, tilting her face up to look at him.

She couldn't speak, her body felt hot and constricted, he'd caught her off guard, she'd caught herself off guard. She'd never expected to feel anything, let alone lust, for this man who stood before her, naked from the waist up, illuminated and golden in the semi-darkness from the lamp that hung by the door.

"What you thinkin' in there...?"

He murmured, tentatively moving his fingers up higher, along the side of her face to hair, pushing his fingers between the strands, cradling her head.

Her breath faltered and she struggled against the urge to lean into his touch. She opened her mouth to reply though there seemed to be no words...

He took a step closer and she looked away, looked down to the floor where the toes of his boots touched the hem of her skirt.

"Look at me."

Again he pressed his hand into her hair, turning her face to his.

"Look at me..."

He whispered again and she looked up, momentarily stunned by the closeness of him. His breath again...on her face, the smokiness of it, the twitch of his lips, the steadiness of those blue eyes...

Without speaking he reached out with his other hand and grasped her own, drawing it free and ever so slowly he pushed his thumb beneath her fingers, uncurling them, and then he pressed her hand against his chest, just over where his heart lay beating.

She gasped, her head felt thick and foggy and she trembled.

She made to pull away but he held her there, his grip holding her so tightly that she felt as though he may as well have had her by the throat.

"Hank..."

Her voice was strained, a strange strangled voice that barely sounded like her own.

His skin was hot beneath her hand, hot and damp with sweat.

Ever so slowly he let his hand slip away from hers until it was her hand alone that rested against his skin.

She glanced up at him, and for a moment his smile faltered with the tell-tale hint of uncertainty, as though at any moment he expected her to run from the room...run from him...

She knew what he was thinking, she could feel the quickened beat of his heart through his skin. Her hand seemed to move without thought...she started with the twitch of a finger, and then another, until her hand pressed flat against him and ever so slowly she stroked his flesh, her hand creeping up to his collar bone, marvelling at how smooth his skin was.

"Michaela..."

His voice made her jump and she stopped her movements, looking up at him with wide mismatched eyes.

"I ain't gonna make you do anythin' you don't wanna do. But you keep doin' that and you sure as hell ain't gonna make it easy for me..."

His voice had lowered, it had a breathlessness to it that she hadn't heard before and it made her entire body shudder. She made the mistake of glancing down again, meaning to look to the floor but this time her eyes caught sight of the rise beneath the black leather of his pants, she could see the long stiff outline against his thigh and all of a sudden she realised what she was doing.

She looked back up at him, this was Hank, the man whose very existence was something that she deemed inappropriate...

But now he stood before her, bare chested and honest, and she was touching him...she could feel his pulse, his life force.

The hand that he had threaded through her hair pulled her closer, for a moment she felt as though she were falling, and then, through no choice of her own she stepped forwards, her body pressed against his, the roughness of his fingers were at the nape of her neck, his other hand against her hip.

"Hank..."

She tried again, saying his name as though somehow saying it aloud would rouse her from this madness.

"You gonna keep sayin' my name...?"

He tailed off, though she wasn't sure if the sentence even had an intended end.

She raised her head, this time without the coaxing of his hand.

Her eyes were level with his jawline, and he lowered his face to hers, nudging the tip of her nose with his. His arms seemed to encircle her, she could feel them about her, his hands in her hair and at her back, tracing the ties of her corset.

He pressed himself against her, forcing her back against the door, she could feel the cool solidity of the wood behind her and the warm firmness of his body before her. He placed his hands on the door, trapping her there, pressing his body so tightly against her own that she could barely breathe, and as if he wished to steal her breath entirely, he kissed her.

He kissed her with surprising softness, seemingly aware of her innocence. He kissed her mouth, her jaw, her neck...and when she gasped for breath, startled by his growing urgency he paused, moments from her lips.

"Michaela?"

He narrowed his eyes.

"You alright?"

He whispered, he breathed as though he'd been running.

"I've never..."

She glanced away, she expected that slow laughing grin, she expected some sort of jibe, or malicious comment. Instead he just gave the slightest nod of his head, no smile...just a wide eyed nod.

"I ain't gonna hurt you."

He said quietly.

She bit her lip. She didn't understand what was happening, some sort of calm madness seemed to have overtaken her.

"C'mere..."

He let himself fall away from her just enough to take her hands within his. He led her slowly, waiting for just a moment, giving her the chance to run. Instead she gave his hands a slight squeeze and he continued, leading her to the bed where she sat, arranging herself stiffly on the very edge, setting down her bag.

"You alright?"

He asked, and she looked up at him, his body so much larger than her own, his cheeks had their colour back and she could see the slight tremble of his hands at his sides.

She gave a slight nod.

"Nervous."

She whispered, and he smiled, a quick flutter of a smile.

He bent down slowly and untied his boots, prizing them from his feet with surprising ease and he tossed them over to rest against the door. Inside his boots he was barefoot. She turned her head as he sat down next to her, she felt the weight of him tip the mattress and she stiffened, leaning away from him to stop their bodies from touching.

"You know you don't gotta do this?"

His words made her stiffen all the more and he raised a hand to smooth the hair from her face, pushing the stray strands back behind her ears. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to lean into his touch.

"I want to."

She exhaled the weight of the words, and suddenly they were real. She'd told him that she wanted him to hold her, to touch her. She opened her eyes and he bent his head to kiss her again, though this time he paused, his lips just brushing her own, waiting for her to kiss him back.

She pressed her lips against his, hesitantly at first, relieved to find he took the lead. She felt his tongue touch against her own and she opened her mouth wider, inviting him in, kissing him breathlessly, slipping her hands up and back across his chest, feeling how warm and firm he was, his muscles fluttered beneath her touch and he moaned as he kissed her, a soft low growl of a moan that made her head feel light.

His hands moved to the buttons of her bodice, undoing them with the ease of practise, pushing the fabric from her shoulders, pooling it at her waist, his hands touched her bare arms and she shivered, shying away from him.

"You cold? You wanna get under the sheets?"

He asked, his eyes had changed she realised, for the first time he looked concerned, anxious even, and it stole her breath to realise that the concern that he was feeling was for her.

"I'm just...I don't know what to expect..."

She whispered. He looked at her for a moment, his face expressionless, and then he stood up and held out his hand to her. She took it and gently he helped her to stand. She paused, grasping hold of her dress.

"Let it fall..."

He murmured, and as he reached around her to throw the bed clothes back from the mattress she very slowly stepped out of her dress and crouched to slip her feet from her shoes.

Again he held out a hand to steady her as she stepped out of them, and he gestured to the bed.

"Thank you..."

She whispered, and she crawled up onto the bed, her skin prickling with embarrassment as she tried to ignore the fact that Hank was seeing her in her under clothes. She pushed her feet beneath the sheets and waited. Hank seemed suddenly unsure of what to do with himself. He shifted from one foot to the other, and then his hands dropped to the fastening of his pants, he loosened them, and then, seeing her nervousness, he stopped and made his way back over to her. He knelt on the mattress, and, leaning over her he pulled up the sheets to cover themselves.

She lay on her back looking up at him, his body held up, resting on one arm as he lay on his side, looking down at her. He reached out his other hand, the pain relief was beginning to wear off and as he moved he could feel the pull and jar of his muscle.

He touched her cheeks, her jaw, her lips...and then that long slow grin of his crept across his lips.

"I can't say I ever thought this would happen."

He laughed slightly as he spoke, a disbelieving nervous laugh that endeared her to him all the more.

"It certainly never crossed my mind!"

She said quietly, and for the first time she smiled, and she reached up to touch his hand that cupped her face. She slipped her fingers in between his, feeling how small her hands were in comparison.

He laughed again, this time an unexpected laugh that he looked immediately apologetic for.

"I said I didn't ever think it would happen...I didn't say I hadn't thought it."

He grinned as he spoke, the sparkle of the Hank she recognised was there beneath the surface and she found herself blushing again. This time his eyes followed the pink blush from her cheeks to her chest, and he lowered himself down to where he placed a soft, warm open mouthed kiss against the skin that was just visible above her camisole.

She swallowed, his mouth on her skin, touching her somewhere so new and intimate made her sigh. She couldn't deny that she'd noticed him before, he was handsome, she hadn't been blind to that...but now she was giving herself to him, her innocence to him.

He adjusted himself with the smooth agility of a cat, and with one hand he fingered the laces to her corset, she could feel them tugging and pulling and for a brief moment she wondered just how many times he had had reason to undo a corset.

The strings gave as he worked his way down, suddenly she was able to breathe easily again and she drew in a long slow breathe and allowed him to ease it from her body. She heard the feather like noise of it crumpling to the floor and she glanced down at herself as he moved. Cautiously he began undoing the small round pearl buttons that ran the front of her camisole. She swallowed against the thundering thump of her heart and the heady breathlessness that he caused as he ran his hand across her chest and up to her shoulders, pushing the thin lace straps from them and drawing her up, one hand at her back, easing them both up into a sitting position.

Never before had she been so vulnerable, so exposed. She tried to swallow but her mouth felt dry and when she felt Hank's hands make a gentle path from behind her, beneath her arms to rest on her stomach she shuddered against him. Gently he raised her camisole from her body, lifting it over her head and sending it fluttering to the floor.

He moved so that she knelt between his legs with her back to him, one long leather clad leg bent either side of her, his feet pushed into the sheets. She felt his fingers give a slight tremble as he touched her back, she closed her eyes and tilted her head as he gathered her hair, drawing it from her back and placing it ever so gently over one shoulder.

"You're beautiful, Michaela..."

His voice took her by surprise as she allowed herself to be drawn back against him. His breath was against her ears, his lips just touching her skin and she could feel the warmth of his bare chest against her own bare back.

She let her head tilt back against his shoulder so that he could kiss her neck. He placed feather-light kisses that danced up and down from just behind her ear to her shoulder, and all the while she could feel his eyes on her. She knew that he was looking down across her naked breasts whilst he kissed her. His hands stroked the soft skin of her stomach and every so often they snaked up to brush against her ribs and she'd hold her breath, waiting for something more.

"Tell me what you need Michaela."

He murmured, his voice was low and she could feel it's vibrations against her back. She hesitated, she'd been relying on him to show her what to do.

"If you ain't got the words all you gotta do is show me..."

He raised a hand and splayed it before her. His fingers were long and perfectly tapered to their tips. She swallowed again..still her mouth was dry and she felt dizzy with the knowledge of what was to come.

"Where d'you need me to touch you?"

He spoke again and she looked once more to his hand which he held so steadily before her.

"All you gotta do is say..."

He added gently. She cleared her throat, and gingerly she reached out for his hand, feeling how it grew limp and willing within her own as she turned the palm to face her, and guided his hand to her chest, pausing as his fingertips just touched the warm skin of her breast bone, giving herself a moment to grow used to this new sensation before she coaxed him to her breasts, so that he touched her where she wanted him to. She felt the creep of his other hand and then he was cupping both of her breasts, applying a gentle pressure to them as he caressed them, running his fingers across the hardening tips of her nipples.

His breath was coming quicker now and every so often an almost silent groan escaped his throat and made her shiver and arc her back into his touch.

And then almost without realising it, one of his hands slipped down, moving in a ripple of steps to the waist band of her under clothes. He paused for the briefest of moments, silently giving her permission to stop him, but she didn't move, she merely gave the slightest purse of her lips to hint at her nervousness.

His fingertips were warm just inside his waist band, his hands slightly rough as he bent down to ease her underclothes from her so that she had to twist in his arms to face him, and she raised her hips to allow him to take them from her.

And then she was naked. The cool air touched every bit of her and sent a running shiver along her spine that made goosebumps of her flesh.

She found she couldn't look at him, instead she stared at his chest, her cheeks growing warm and she could hear her blood rushing within her ears.

He touched her chin, and gently he raised it until finally she couldn't pretend to look elsewhere any more and she raised her eyes to him.

Just looking at him seemed to make everything more real, her own bare skin touching his own as she took a step towards him, unsure whether she was closing the gap to hide herself, or to feel the skin to skin contact that her body seemed to crave.

"Hank..."

She exhaled his name, almost without meaning to. His chest pressed hard against her own and he wrapped an arm about her waist holding her steady, as if he thought her body might fall away from him, and with his other hand he stroked her hair, ran his fingers beneath the weight of it to touch the soft skin at the back of her neck.

He shifted, leaning against her, coaxing her down so that she lay flat again, her head on the pillow, his whole body moving ever so slightly, though now she could feel the solidity of his arousal against her hip. She felt it flex gently beneath the leather of his pants and she struggled to catch her breath. She felt hot all of a sudden, hot and light headed, her lips seemed to vibrate and each breath she drew in didn't seem to be enough.

Without a word she felt him move, his arms were about her again, all she could see was him, his hair the sun-bleached waves that tapered into ringlets, the bright blue of his eyes that had darkened with the dilation of his pupils, and his lips, framed by pin-pricks of golden stubble, and parted so that she could see the glint of his teeth as he breathed.

He pushed his fingers into her hair, scratching them gently against her scalp so that she rolled her head and allowed her eyes to fall shut. She could smell his skin, and the heady warmth of his breath and he leant down to kiss her with those lips that caught her by surprise and kissed her so softly that she thought she might cry out.

She kissed him back, she touched her tongue to his and slowly she pulled him closer, easing her arms up about his neck and arcing her back up against him as he allowed her to pull him down so that he held himself up above her. She could feel the tension in his back, every muscle taught as he held himself there, not wanting to hurt her by resting his full weight on top of her.

He moved his mouth to her jaw, kissing the line of it to her ear where he tasted the bitterness of perfume against his tongue. His breath made her shudder and he rested his forehead against her throat for a moment as he eased himself up and gently nudged against her knees, parting her legs so that he could position himself between them.

"Your pants...?"

She whispered and he raised his head with the glimmer of a smile.

"Hmm?"

He murmured and his chest vibrated against her own. She felt her cheeks flush as he looked down at her.

"You're still wearing your pants..."

She swallowed. His smile widened slowly, creases formed at the corners of his eyes.

"I was gonna take 'em off..."

He laughed slightly as he spoke, the leather of his thighs moved against her legs and before she had a chance to respond he slipped a hand between their bodies to where he undid the fastening at his waist and with the ease of practise at one-handed undressing, he pushed at the leather until he could kick it from his legs and he was naked above her.

Her eyes widened, his legs were warmer than the rest of him from being confined beneath the black leather and as he lowered himself to kiss her again she felt the bump and press of his erection against her thigh and without meaning to she raised her hips as much as she could, craving the touch of him.

He smiled against her lips, and she kissed him quickly, his smile widened and he raised one eyebrow, silently questioning her own smile and the bite of her lip.

"I've thought about that before..."

She paused, his head was tilted to one side in question, his lips still curled at their corners.

"...kissing your smile..."

She whispered and he expelled an almost silent laugh and glanced down to her chest where his fingers began a slow spiral of circles across her skin.

"Have you now?"

He nodded as he spoke, his voice an amused drawl, his eyes watching the movement of his fingers.

"What else you thought about?"

He asked. She cleared her throat, she couldn't possibly say those words, and he knew it.

He spread his hand over the side of her breast and, still smiling, he dipped his head to her throat, kissing the smooth skin of her collar bone, down to her bare breasts. His mouth was hot, and she felt the wet warmth of his tongue against her nipple. She drew in a breath, unable to stop herself from arcing her back from the bed, pushing herself up towards him so that he could slip an arm beneath her, cradling her against him, supporting her body as he licked and sucked a slow trail from one nipple to the other.

"You know, I thought about this before..."

His words tickled her skin and he moved between her breasts to kiss her ribs, his stubble prickled her skin and she rolled her head back and let her eyes fall shut.

"I thought about what you looked like under all those skirts..."

He added, his voice was slow, slower than usual and barely a whisper.

He kissed her stomach and her skin fluttered away from his touch, jumping beneath his smile and he paused. She felt him move slowly, slipping an arm between them. She tilted her head back down to look at him and he met her gaze, his body hovering above her own, his hand was out of sight but she felt it, gently he coaxed her legs apart, lowering himself between them so that he knees trembled against either side of him, knocking against his hips.

He placed a hot kiss on the skin of her stomach, raising his eyes to look up at her as he did so.

"And I ain't disappointed."

He purred, and again her skin shivered from his mouth and she felt a blush begin to creep from her cheeks, warm in it's rush across her neck, and down to her chest. She could feel the burn of his eyes following it's run.

He shifted again, every one of his movements deliberate and fluid, he had the grace of an animal, seductive in it's stalking of it's prey, never once looking away...

He moved back up her body, her breath quickened and tightened in her throat as though she were being strangled. She wanted to look down, to see his naked body, but as he rose above her, crawling back up to hover above her she could only barely convince herself to look up at his face.

He rested on one hand, and with the other he bent down onto his elbow, pushing it into the mattress, hearing it crackle beneath his weight, and he drew in a breath as he pushed his fingers into the strands of her hair, caressing her scalp.

She turned into his touch and let her eyes fall shut. He lowered himself further to kiss her temple, the rise of her cheek and the line of her jaw. At the first touch of his body pressing down against hers she stiffened and he paused, giving her time to adjust to the newness of it.

She swallowed hard, she could feel the solidity of his erection against her stomach. There were no barriers between them now, their clothes had been shed, and now the bare skin of his arousal pushed and twitched against her, laying flat between them as his breath came back and forth against her throat.

"I'll be real gentle..."

His voice was hoarse, as though he needed to clear his throat.

She turned ever so slightly and opened her eyes. He was barely inches from her. His eyes, that bright blue that always hinted at amusement were dark now, black pupils glossy and dilated and instead of amusement within them, there was the breathlessness of desire and the nervousness of rejection.

She licked her lips, and gently she braved touching him. She slipped her fingertips either side of him, working them over the soft warm skin that pulled so tautly across his back, until her hands rested, pressed flat against the muscle across his shoulder blades where the blonde curls of his hair grazed her knuckles.

"Tell me what to do?"

She whispered. He couldn't help but smile again at her words. He hadn't realised how innocent she really was.

"All you gotta do is feel, Michaela."

As he spoke he allowed a hand to drift down one side of her body to her hip where he traced invisible circles across the rise of her hipbone.

"What about you?"

She said, almost without meaning to, and again she flushed pink.

"I mean...Surely I should..."

Her breath caught as his circles stilled and his hand slipped between them, his body raising up, and she felt the very tip of his erection graze her stomach as he lowered himself, and he touched her between her legs. He used just one finger at first, running it up and down so slowly that she began to feel faint and she had to remind herself to draw in a breath.

His back hunched slightly, and with his other arm he lowered himself, his elbow above her shoulder, his hand cradling her head as he kissed her, his tongue against hers, his taste in her mouth.

And then she felt the sliding wetness of him, the pressure of his erection against her, pushing between the folds of skin to enter her, and still he touched her with his fingers, making her thighs quiver against him.

"Put your legs around me."

He whispered between kisses. She hesitated, he felt her knees twitch against him. Sensing that she wasn't quite sure of what he meant, he guided her with a hand, and without a word she obliged, raising her legs to loop them about his waist, her heels resting in the dip of his lower back.

And then he pushed. She felt the pressure, she felt herself give way to him, and as he moved slowly deeper she felt herself tense, she could feel the sting and wince of her innocence tearing and she stiffened beneath him so that he paused mid-thrust to look down at her, and without a word he continued to stroke her gently with his fingers, up and down, circling her, making her head feel light and heavy all at the same time, until suddenly she began to relax. Her legs gave one last wobble at his sides and she felt her inner muscles give, just enough to allow him to push that little bit further. The pain came again and instinctively she knew that her innocence was gone.

She concentrated on his fingers, willing herself to relax further, and every time his fingers moved up higher she felt herself allow him deeper, until at last he could enter her no further, his stomach pressed against her own, and she imagined him deep within her, she could feel him, hard and unmoving, just resting there whilst he looked down at her, searching for her gaze.

She looked up at him, her lips were dry and parted, her cheeks flushed and she could feel the prickle of sweat across her scalp.

Hank...she narrowed her gaze, he was above her, she realised, Hank was inside of her own body...this was all so intimate...so unlike anything else she had ever known...

"How's it feel?"

He whispered, his words all seeming to slur into one. She swallowed and licked her lips, nodding slightly.

"You wan'me to come out?"

He asked. She could see the flex in the muscles of his upper arms, as though he were preparing to pull out.

"No..."

She shook her head.

"No."

She said again, with more confidence this time. Though it had hurt when he had moved, she didn't want him to leave, she didn't want this closeness to end.

He looked down at her, and though he had tucked his hair behind his ears, curls of it sprung free and hung down towards her in yellow spirals that whisped at the tips and touched her face.

"Just you concentrate on lookin' at me till it feels good."

She wasn't quite sure what he meant. He moved slowly at first, pulling out of her almost all the way, she felt the loss of him even without him leaving her entirely, but then before she had had time to whimper in protest he rocked his hips and pushed back inside her again. But somehow this time, just looking up at him, focusing on his eyes, his lips...she didn't feel her body tense. She held it back, she bit the flesh of her bottom lip and hitched her legs further up his body, pulling him closer to him so that his arms flexed again and he struggled to control himself as he coaxed her into a steady rhythm. Back and forth...she could feel the tense of his thighs, the curve and release of his back as he rocked into her, all the while cradling her, kissing her, loving her...

She felt the throb of a steadily growing ache between her legs, just beneath his fingertips. It made the air feel thin as she breathed and she arced her body up to meet his again, pushing her chest against hers, enjoying his weight and the hot dampness of his skin against her own.

She noticed how his breathing changed as he thrust into her, and in between kisses his lips were parted, his hair had fallen from it's confines behind his ears and his eyes had darkened further, his pupils black and dilated. She held onto him, spreading her legs further apart, eliciting a low groan from deep within his throat. He was far more handsome than she'd ever noticed before, she realised, as his forehead creased with a slight frown and he flicked a tongue out to lick his lips.

He leant down to kiss her again, the tip of his tongue touching hers, his lips pressing against hers with a tenderness she could never have imagined him capable of, and with the bucking of his hips and the feel of his kisses, she felt herself tighten around him, gripping him deep within her as the pressure built further and she closed her eyes to blot out the sudden light headedness she felt as she felt her body break and release beneath him with a blinding rush of pleasure.

His rhythm changed and he lowered himself and whispered to her, words she couldn't quite make out as her body convulsed and she felt the hot warmth of his own release deep within her.

A moment passed, their bodies stilled and through his ribcage his heart thumped in time with her own. His forehead rested against hers, she could feel the dampness of it and she reached up to slip her arms about his neck.

He smiled slowly and moved to look down at her. He was breathless, he raised a hand to push the hair back, away from his face before he spoke.

"You alright?"

He asked and she gave a slight nod of her head.

He rolled off of her, being careful not to hurt her. He let his body flop down into the space next to her, emitting a long satisfied sigh as he stared up at the ceiling.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. His chest was rising and falling steadily, she could see the outline of his ribs at his side and the sculptural curve of his abdomen, running in smooth solid lines to his pelvis where she paused for a moment, collecting herself, steadying her breathing before she allowed herself to look again. His erection didn't seem to have subsided much yet, and somewhere at the back of her mind she wondered how long it took...perhaps she could look it up in one of her medical books...it was larger than she had assumed it might be and it rested against him, rising up towards his stomach, lying flat against his skin. She felt her cheeks grow steadily warmer and quickly she glanced back up to his face, alarmed to find that he was looking at her, his eyes narrowed with amusement, his lips turned down at the corners with the ghost of a smile.

She looked away again, she could feel the throbbing of blood at her cheeks, her whole face felt hot and she looked down to where her fingers fidgeted against her stomach.

She felt him move, he raised his arm hovering it above her head, waiting...

"Come here."

He whispered. It took her a moment to be able to look at him, but when she did she saw the look in his eyes, a look of such gentleness and kindness that she barely recognised him.

Carefully she rolled over to face him and allowed him to slip his waiting arm beneath her head. He pulled her closer so that she had little choice but to curl her body into his. She could smell him, the unmistakeable masculine scent of sweat and sex, a smell that surprised her with its pleasantness.

"You sure you're alright? You ain't sayin' much..."

He paused and felt her stiffen slightly.

"Did I hurt you?"

She glanced up at him, his words were a whisper against the top of her head. He looked down at her, his forehead creased with worry, his blue eyes cloudy and pale.

She exhaled slowly and shook her head, adjusting herself so that her cheek rested against his collar bone once again.

"You didn't hurt me."

She reassured, and she allowed herself to touch him again, with tentative fingers she brushed over the solidity of his chest, running over the rise and fall of it, through the soft blonde hairs and up to his shoulder where her fingertips touched lightly against his neck and grazed his jaw.

"Hank?"

She whispered against his shoulder. He made a low murmur somewhere in the back of his throat in response.

"What would you have done, if you could have done anything, if you hadn't needed to be so...careful?"

She asked, surprising herself with her boldness, and bracing herself for whatever reaction may come.

She felt him smile, and then he laughed an almost silent breathy laugh, a laugh that held so much affection that she didn't feel ashamed to have asked.

"We'll work up to that."

He said after a pause, drawing in a breath and holding her tighter so that he could bury his face into her hair.

"We will?"

She asked, twisting to look up at him quickly, her eyes wide. He raised an eyebrow with amusement and drew up one of his shoulders in a lazy shrug.

"If you want...?"

TO BE CONTINUED...


End file.
